The Good Neighbour

by Beth Miller

He turned to look at her. She felt a little afraid, but her instincts told her that this was, in all probability, a hollow warning. ‘These imaginary photos must be pretty hot stuff, if you’re making threats like that.’

  ‘I mean it, Cath.’

  She decided she might as well do this now, rather than later as she’d planned. ‘OK Liam, let’s get serious. What are they worth?’

  ‘The photos?’

  ‘I don’t want Josie to see them, either. But I think you should put down a deposit, to remind me that I don’t want to.’

  ‘So it is blackmail. Minette was right.’

  ‘Not at all. I have something you want, and you’re paying me for it. It’s a basic transaction.’

  ‘How do I know that you’ll keep your word?’

  ‘You don’t, I suppose. But I will.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘You tell me. What’s it worth to you?’

  ‘This is a one-time-only payment, all right? I’m not going to have you shaking me down every month.’

  ‘I’m not planning to be around here for much longer. It’s a one-off. To go towards “Doing it for Davey”. It’s a good cause.’

  Liam sighed. ‘Five hundred?’

  Cath laughed. ‘Come on, Liam, you were a banker. Still are, if we change one letter.’

  ‘I was a city trader.’

  ‘You’ll have stashed enough away. I’m not greedy. Call it five grand and we’ll leave it there.’

  ‘Jesus, no way!’

  ‘You ought to see this particularly nice picture of you with your dick in Minette’s mouth …’

  ‘All right, you fucking cow, five grand.’

  ‘Can you make sure you’ve paid it into my website by the time I get home today? I don’t want to have to chase you for it.’

  Liam nodded. ‘I’ll do it now, if you promise that’s it.’ He took out his phone and started searching for her site. ‘That’s it, Scout’s honour,’ Cath said. She stood up, and her legs trembled and nearly gave way. She realised she wasn’t going to be able to get back on the bike. Not now. Maybe not ever. She waited till he’d paid in the money, then said, ‘Are you feeling strong, Liam? Strong enough to do “some serious harm”?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I need you to break my bike.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Just do it, please.’

  ‘Why should I help you?’

  ‘It would make sense for you to do me a favour, maybe.’

  Liam shrugged, picked up the bike, held it as high over his head as he could, and hurled it to the ground. The mirrors shattered and a couple of bolts came off, god knows where from, and rolled away. The wheel rims chipped but looked intact.

  ‘Harder.’

  ‘What’s my aim here?’

  ‘I need to not be able to ride it.’

  ‘Oh, in that case …’ Liam brought his foot down hard against the chain with all his weight, then again, and the chain snapped. ‘I remember from my cycling days as a lad. There’s no coming back from a broken chain.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll push it the rest of the way and say I crashed it into the wall.’

  ‘Won’t they disqualify you?’

  ‘Not if I finish the course.’ Cath stood up. Knowing she didn’t have to cycle any more made her feel skittish. ‘I must say, you look particularly handsome today, Liam.’ She braced her hands on the handlebars. ‘Something I’ve always wanted to ask you, how come you never tried to make it as a telly presenter or something?’

  ‘I did try, years ago, but nothing came of it.’ He gave her his Man At Armani smile. ‘Whatever I’ve got doesn’t come across in front of the camera.’

  Cath began walking away from him, pushing the bike, which was all over the place, like a wayward supermarket trolley. ‘Yes. I can see that.’ Luckily there wasn’t far to go. ‘Weak chin,’ she called over her shoulder, and then she turned the corner.

  She wasn’t the only one walking to the end of the route. A couple of other competitors ahead of her were also pushing their bikes, and one youngish man was limping along with bloodstains down his legs. It was good to know that she wouldn’t be quite last. She reached the finish and explained to an official about her chain. Gina came running over.

  ‘Oh my god, I was getting worried. What happened?’

  ‘Tell you later. But I’m never getting on a bike again.’ Cath drank some water and looked over at the kids. Lola was playing with Gina’s phone.

  ‘She was getting a bit bored,’ Gina said.

  ‘Bring them over to watch me run.’ Cath changed into her trainers and went to the start line. Gina and the children came across to wave her off.

  As Cath began to run, she realised something wasn’t feeling right. She tried to shake it off, but it nagged away at her. She did a mental checklist of her body: legs, aching and a little trembly still, the scratch on her shin stinging. But basically OK. Feet, fine. Arms, tired but OK. Back, neck, shoulders, all OK. What was it, then, Cathykins? The runners ahead of her were a long way in the distance; the runners behind a long way back. It was just her and the tarmac, her panting breaths, the echo of her feet thudding in her ears.

  She thought of Gina’s anxious face as she saw Cath pushing the bike. She’d been the cause of a lot of Gina’s anxious faces lately. The days when she’d been the one to rescue Gina were a long time past.

  That first night after leaving Andy, four months ago. The kids were asleep in Gina’s spare room, and she and Gina were in the living room, making up an airbed for Cath to sleep on. Cath smoothed down the cream duvet cover and said, ‘This is nice. Egyptian cotton.’

  ‘John Lewis,’ Gina said. ‘Nothing but the best for you, Rubes.’

  ‘Cath, now.’

  Gina sat down on the sofa and began putting a matching case on the pillow. ‘Rubes, I’ll do everything you ask. I will always be there for you and the kids. I’ll do my best to remember whatever new damn names you’ve given them. I’ll liaise with Andy and I swear on my mother’s grave that I will never tell him where you are. But the one thing you can’t get me to do is call you Cath. Oh, of course,’ she said quickly, anticipating Cath’s objection, ‘I’ll call you Cath in public. But in private, when no one can hear, you’re still Ruby. You were Ruby when you were the only one to talk to me in Mrs Blaker’s class. You were Ruby when you held my hair that time I puked on Hastings seafront. You were Ruby when you lived with us after your mum died. You were Ruby when I was your bridesmaid, and Ruby when you got me away from that shitty bastard.’

  ‘Gee, are you crying?’

  ‘Fuck off, I’m not.’

  Cath emerged from her thoughts in time to see Minette pass her going the other way. This time Minette did wave, and called out ‘Good luck!’ Cath waved too, but didn’t wish her luck, she didn’t need it. In ten minutes, maybe less, Minette would be at the finish. She was going like the clappers too, almost sprinting. Cath, on the other hand, was beyond tired now, her running little more than a fast walk. She couldn’t shake the irritating voice in her head telling her something was wrong. Cath always thought of her unconscious the way she’d seen it depicted in a psychology textbook during her nurse training. It was a drawing of a man’s head in profile, with the brain inside, a tiny bit of the top of the brain marked ‘Conscious’ and coloured in red, the much larger part, nine-tenths, in blue, labelled ‘Unconscious’. The literal-minded tutor had been at pains to tell them it wasn’t really like that inside their heads, but the image had stuck for Cath. She imagined sifting through that large blue area, flicking through the possibilities. The wiry feeling was more or less in check. She was feeling bad about Gina, sure. But that wasn’t it. Was it something to do with Liam? No, she’d handled that encounter well, considering how startled she’d been. Minette? That was still a gamble, of course. But there was no way Minette would tell Abe. Still, it was a bit weird that she’d come to race today after the way their last encounter had ended. Why had she? She’d not tried to confront Cath, and it se
emed she hadn’t even talked to Gina …

  The thing that was wrong suddenly hit Cath between the eyes, like a physical slap, and she stopped dead in her tracks. The phone in Lola’s hand … Oh god, oh god, what an idiot she was. She turned instantly and ran back towards the start, almost colliding with a runner who was running in the same direction.

  ‘Hey!’ the woman yelled. It was her old friend, the one with grey hair. ‘You didn’t get to the turn point.’

  ‘I’m not cheating, it’s an emergency. I have to get back to the start.’

  ‘Yeah? You don’t look ill,’ the woman panted. ‘I’m going to have to report you to the race officials.’

  ‘Report away, grandma,’ Cath said, and picked up speed. She thought she would never get to the end, the slap of her feet against the ground pounding in her head, all thoughts blotted out except that she had to get back there right now. At last she reached the finish point. She didn’t stop to get her number noted down, and the official called after her. She ignored him, scanned frantically round for Gina. Oh god, where were they?

  ‘Miss, I’ll have to disqualify you if you don’t come back now,’ the official said, coming over and taking hold of her arm. She shook him off, feeling she might sob, and the official must have seen the despair on her face because he let her alone.

  Every part of her was exhausted and aching, and now there was this. She knew what was coming and she was powerless to stop it: the only option was to leave tonight and she didn’t have the energy, but Christ she was going to have to find it. She ran here and there like a crazed person, and at last she saw Gina, sitting with the kids next to a cold drink stall.

  ‘Oh!’ Gina gasped as Cath appeared. ‘What happened? We were going to come to the line to watch you come in. You can’t have finished yet.’

  ‘Where’s your phone, give me your phone.’

  ‘It’s here, hang on.’ Gina got it out of her bag and Cath snatched it from her hand.

  ‘What’s the matter, Rubes?’ Gina said.

  Cath didn’t answer, just pressed buttons frantically. Her fingers were sweaty and it took for ever. There was nothing there, just endless calls to Ryan. Texts, then. She scrolled through the list. There were texts to Ryan again, to her, to various members of Gina’s family. There was nothing there. But she knew. That blue area of her brain knew, had known all along.

  She swung round to face Davey. ‘You’ve deleted it, haven’t you?’

  Davey looked at her with his Andy-expression, and didn’t answer.

  ‘Davey, you little shit, don’t give me that innocent look, I know you have, I can see it on your face. It was Minette, wasn’t it? She told you.’

  ‘What’s Minette told him?’ Gina said.

  ‘Gee, I’m going to need your help tonight like I’ve never needed it before.’

  ‘Oh my god,’ Gina said, getting to her feet, ‘will you please tell me what’s going on?’

  ‘Are you in, or out?’

  ‘In, of course. What is it, Rubes?’

  Cath sank down onto the ground, and started to cry.

  Chapter 25

  Minette

  NAP WHEN THE baby naps. Minette was too exhausted even for her usual cynical laugh. Last night she was kept awake by her thoughts, whirling round and round. She prayed that she’d done the right thing, imagined terrible scenarios that were all her fault. She finally dropped off about two, only to be woken barely an hour later by noises from next door. She was too tired to get up and see what was going on, and went back to sleep, the noise weaving in and out of her dreams. Then Tilly woke for the day at five thirty. After Abe went to work, Minette spent the morning in a zombie-like state, trailing wearily round the house after a manically toddling child. When Tilly showed the first signs of readiness for her pre-lunch nap, Minette was beyond relieved. She whisked Tilly into her cot, yanked out her lenses, and crawled gratefully into bed. She was asleep in moments.

  She briefly surfaced sometime later, disturbed by a vehicle in the street. Its engine shook the floor beneath her bed, then it cut out and there was silence again. Her brain groggily flickered, trying to remember if she was expecting any deliveries, decided she wasn’t, and drifted back to sleep. A couple of minutes later she was woken properly by someone ringing the doorbell. She lay inert, her limbs reluctant to uncoil. She was so warm and comfortable. Let the guy leave a card. Or if it was a parcel for a neighbour, he could sod off. She closed her eyes again. Then someone started hammering at the door. For god’s sake! They’d wake Tilly, the idiot. She put on her glasses and tore downstairs. If it was Liam, come to try and make things up, she would give him such a bollocking. But it would also be fantastic to see him. She flung open the front door, but the man standing there wasn’t Liam. He was stocky, medium height, scruffily dressed, messy sandy-coloured hair. Two sharp vertical lines on his forehead made him look worried. An enormous lorry was parked in the street behind him.

  ‘Are you Minette?’

  It seemed a bit forward to use her first name, but maybe his company had the misguided notion that it was friendlier.

  ‘Er, yes.’ He didn’t have a parcel in his hand. ‘What’s it regarding?’ She sounded like her mother-in-law.

  ‘I’m Andy. We spoke a few times on the phone.’

  Minette’s tired brain took a few seconds to catch up. Then she understood. Oh, clever Davey!

  ‘Oh god, hello, sorry. Do you want to come in?’

  ‘No, I want to know where they are.’ He pointed at Cath’s house. ‘There’s no one there.’

  ‘Well, the children will be at school and nursery. Cath’s probably at the shops, or something.’

  ‘There’s no one there,’ he said again, his voice rising into a wail. ‘They’ve gone.’

  Minette stepped outside and closed the door behind her. Tilly would be OK for a bit longer. She and Andy walked up to Cath’s door, and Minette rang the bell. There was no answer. Andy beckoned her to look through the ground floor window, Davey’s room. The hospital bed was neatly made up. His books, the ones she herself had put on the shelves, were still there, and the American flag was on the wall. But all the drawers were hanging out of the chest, emptied of clothes, and something about the atmosphere of the room told her Andy was right. They had gone. She turned to Andy and saw her shock reflected in his eyes. ‘But, but, I saw them yesterday,’ she said.

  ‘Adam sent me a message yesterday, on Gina’s phone.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘He sent me his address.’

  ‘I told him to,’ Minette said. ‘I gave him your number. I told him to delete the message after he’d sent it. I don’t understand what’s happened. Where have they gone?’

  ‘Thank you.’ He clasped her hand, and tears poured down his face. ‘Thank you for trying.’

  ‘Eastbourne’s not exactly a tiny place,’ Minette said. ‘We can’t just go there and knock on doors.’

  Abe was home, having taken a half-day’s leave in response to Minette’s phone call, and was drawing a blank on the electoral roll. Gina Grainger had almost no internet presence. The two links that mentioned her name didn’t give her address. One link just had a photo of her and a younger man looking rather drunk outside a football ground. They’d given up phoning her – she simply wasn’t answering.

  Andy was slumped on the sofa, berating himself for not having arrived sooner. From the moment he got Davey’s message, he’d driven through the night. ‘But if I’d gone faster, I might have been in time.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Minette said, remembering the noises that had woken her. ‘I think they left in the early hours.’

  ‘Something I don’t understand,’ Abe said, turning away from the computer, ‘is that the other week, when you came back from Cath’s, you said you’d got it all wrong, that she’d been telling the truth.’

  Minette opened her mouth to explain, then realised she couldn’t. That night she’d stumbled back from Cath’s, reeling from seeing the photos, she’d excused her
addled state to Abe by explaining that she and Cath had made up and got pissed together. ‘Andy’s clearly not to be trusted,’ Minette had said, looking straight at Abe. She couldn’t see him properly, which made things easier. ‘Cath’s got an official diagnosis of Davey’s condition, and Davey showed me the few steps he can do. I also saw the hospital letter about Lola’s allergies. It’s all legit.’

  To her shame, the lies came easily. It’s to save us, she reminded herself, and to save Liam and Josie. It’s the right thing to do. Abe asked her twice if she was quite sure. ‘Absolutely! Like you said, Andy had his excuses down pat. It’s all good with Cath.’

  She said she was exhausted and went to bed, pretending to be asleep when he came up. She knew she had just added another layer of deception to her relationship with Abe, but she didn’t know what else to do.

  ‘Ruby’s very convincing,’ Andy said now, saving Minette from having to answer.

  ‘But what made you change your mind back again?’ Abe said, staring at Minette. ‘And why didn’t you text the address to Andy yourself, once you’d decided to tell him, rather than give the number to Davey?’

  ‘Because I didn’t decide to tell him,’ Minette said, hoping Abe wouldn’t notice that she was only answering the second of his questions. ‘I knew it had to be up to Davey. All I did was give him the means to call his father, if he wanted to. How you getting on with Gina’s address there?’

  Answer the question with a question. How could she explain to Abe that it wasn’t about changing her mind, so much as having the balls to make the right choice: protect her relationship and Liam’s marriage, or protect Cath’s children? She had spent the last week in a state of torment, trying in vain to find a solution which allowed her to do both. In despair, she rang Ros, not expecting great things, just wanting to hear a different voice to the one in her head. To her surprise, she found she was talking to the old thoughtful Ros. It was Ros who came up with the halfway house answer, to give Davey the means of contacting his dad if he decided to, allowing Minette to distance herself from whatever came afterwards. ‘If he’s as savvy as you reckon,’ Ros said, ‘he won’t say who gave him the number.’